There's A Place For Us
by smith.pepper
Summary: Tired of worrying about Kurapika, Leorio hatches a plan to keep him safe. (Set somewhere between the York Shin and Dark Continent arcs).


**author's note: hello! this is my first Hunter x Hunter story, and while I am also currently in the middle of writing an endlessly long cowboy bebop fic, I just have too many Kurapika Feelings coursing through my veins at the moment to not use them for something. the title is a lyric from the beautiful song "Somewhere" by Leonard Bernstein.**

 **i. something in your voice**

Leorio's five whiskeys deep when the idea comes to him. He's sitting at the hotel bar, mulling things over and unwinding after a long day at a medical conference, and all at once everything clunks into place.

He runs a hand over his stubbly face. Inhales sharply. Stares at the ceiling.

It could work. Maybe. It isn't a lie, really; in fact, it might even turn out to be true. But if he can pull it off, if things go according to this plan he's hatching, does it matter in the end?

Leorio drains his glass and pulls his cell phone out of his coat pocket as the whiskey burns its way down his throat. His fingers hover over Kurapika's contact as he deliberates for a moment. He's so tired of hearing Kurapika's no-nonsense voicemail greeting, and he's long since abandoned the idea of Kurapika actually picking up the phone. Months of failed attempts have taught him that much.

Still, he keeps calling.

He fills his lungs with air like he's about to dive underwater and dials. There's a low hum of clinking glasses and chattering customers surrounding Leorio, and he presses the phone to his ear to listen to nine, ten, eleven distant-sounding rings play out before the voicemail picks up.

"Kurapika Kurta. State your name and business."

Leorio's a bit tipsy—okay, fine, he's good and drunk—and even this curt recording of Kurapika's voice makes his heart race. He takes a shaky breath to steady himself.

"Yo, Kurapika. It's me. Uh, it's Leorio. But you knew that already. I know 'm calling you too much, but, heh..."

He's already rambling; he exhales through his teeth in a hiss and tries again.

"Listen. I know you're thinking about hanging up. But. There's a guy. At this conference I'm at. Well. I don't wanna say too much over the phone, but..."

He glances around the bar and lowers his voice covertly. Nobody's paying him any attention, absorbed in their drinks and dates and electronics, but he can't be too careful.

"He's an ophthalmologist. An eye doctor. I went to his lecture today on the topic of human biodiversity and he referenced his private collection once or twice and...listen, you get the idea, I've got a lead for you, Kurapika, so just...just call me back for once, okay?" Leorio finishes in a rush, hanging up and thrusting his phone deep into his pocket.

Suddenly drained, he slumps forward and catches his flushed face in his hands. The pretty bartender breezes by with the check and a wink. Any other time Leorio would gladly flirt his way into another drink and maybe a room key, but right now his mind is a million miles away from anything of the sort. He fishes out a wad of crumpled Jenni without bothering to do the math and untucks his lanky legs from underneath the bar. Weaving slightly, he makes his way out of the dimly lit lounge towards the lobby elevators. The pattern of the hotel carpet scintillates and blurs before his eyes as he walks, and he cringes as he feels the beginning of a pounding headache setting in. Tomorrow will be awful; he's expected to attend twelve hours of lectures and presentations at the conference. A hangover will make the day interminable, but it's still worth it, Leorio reassures himself. He needed some liquid courage to work up the nerve to leave yet another message.

His phone is cranked as loud as it goes, but Leorio can't keep himself from checking the screen compulsively as he rides the creaky elevator up to his 19th floor room. There's a cheerfully misspelled text from Gon (Hi Leorio! Have yu ever eaten whale island oisters? They r sooooo good. We have to eat some with you me Killua and Koorapica next time! O.k. bye!) and a reminder email from his student loan company, but no missed calls or texts or emails from Kurapika. He'd take a smoke signal at this point.

Leorio collapses fully clothed onto his hotel bed and groans. Kicking off his shoes, he places one large foot on the carpet to steady his spinning head. He tugs a pillow over his eyes with one hand while loosening his tie with the other. He should hang his suit up neatly and shower and shave and review his notes for tomorrow, but he's well and truly fucked for the night.

I hope he's not angry, Leorio thinks before he loses consciousness and starts to snore. I hope he understands.

* * *

Leorio oversleeps through three alarms and wakes up furious at himself. His suit is wrinkled from sleeping in it, and he doesn't have time to do anything besides splash cold water on his face and run a comb through his hair. It's not until he's grabbing a cup of takeaway coffee in the lobby and sprinting towards the conference rooms that he remembers his phone call last night. Before he walks into the conference room he ducks into a hallway and pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly.

2 Missed Calls - Kurapika Kurta

That's a first. His stomach flips over. A group of young doctors push past him into the conference room, yammering about the lecture topics of the day (rare tropical diseases and public health campaigns in the Lurka region). He punches the redial button and waits, sipping his too-hot coffee.

Kurapika picks up after two rings, and Leorio is so surprised that he drops his coffee onto his feet. He holds in a stream of expletives as Kurapika starts to speak.

"Hello, Leorio. I received your message," he says, formal as ever. "Are you available to discuss this matter?"

"Of course I am," Leorio says, too excited to be annoyed by Kurapika's perpetual lawyer-speak. He kneels down and retrieves his coffee cup from the soggy carpet. "I always am."

"Right," Kurapika says vaguely. "I appreciate your willingness to share information with me. Do you think you could give me the contact information for this Dr. Xavier? I'd like to begin tracking him as soon as possible."

"Oh," Leorio says, scratching his stubbly cheek, "well, I figured you could fly out and we can work together. I'm still at this conference for three more days, and he lives in my home country. I won't get in your way or anything," he adds quickly. "But I'm happy to help."

"That won't be necessary. I can't ask you to endanger yourself on my behalf."

"I can look after myself just fine. Don't worry about me," Leorio replies, and Kurapika emits a crackly sigh on the other line.

"I'm busy, Leorio. If this is a wild goose chase, I really don't have time—"

"It's not. I promise. I'll fly you out. Just give me your email and where you're leaving from. Where are you, anyways?"

Kurapika is silent for so long that Leorio is afraid that he's hung up.

"You're not going to tell me anything unless I come out there, are you?" Kurapika finally mutters. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"No," Leorio replies cheerfully. He looks around the hallway, watching an acne-faced intern struggling to hang a large cardboard display of the nervous system on the opposite wall. "I just..." he trails off, because Kurapika isn't exactly wrong.

"Fine," Kurapika says, sounding defeated. "Fine, I suppose I can..." and Leorio clenches his fists in victory as he hears the faraway sound of clicking keyboard keys. Kurapika must be looking up flights. "Where are you staying? There's a morning flight tomorrow. I'll arrive at...11:47 am."

"Great!" Leorio says, a balloon of excitement rising in his throat. "I rented a car this trip so I can pick you up. I'll be there. It's cold right now, so bring something warm."

"Yes. February is cold in many places in the world. Goodbye, Leorio," Kurapika says stiffly, and hangs up.

Leorio feels a curious weight lifting from his chest as he elbows his way into the conference room. The lecture is already underway, a team of gray-haired biologists explaining a complicated diagram on the projector screen, and the room is filled with his fellow medical students hunched over desks and taking notes. He slides into a seat in the back of the room and takes out his notebook, but his mind is whirling too much to take in the material.

Leorio hasn't seen Kurapika since September, and the months of separation have frayed his nerves to their breaking point. Where is Kurapika? What's he doing? Is he safe? Eating? Sleeping? He's heard from Kurapika exactly three times since they parted ways, and the calls were all placed from an unidentified number (one at the end of September, one in November, and one on New Year's Eve). Each conversation was frustratingly vague, with Kurapika unwilling to divulge anything more than a brief hello in the face of Leorio's rapid-fire questioning.

But this time tomorrow, Kurapika will be here, in this hotel, right in front of him. Even the hangover can't spoil Leorio's mood. As for the rest of the plan, well...he'll figure that out once Kurapika arrives.

The day passes excruciatingly slowly. Leorio drinks so much coffee over the course of three lectures that his eyelids start to twitch, and he decides to skip the optional cocktail mixer at 5 in favor for a long shower and a nap. The thought of more alcohol makes his stomach churn.

Once he's back in his room he spends a puzzling ten minutes trying to figure out how the pull-out couch functions, and after he gets it open he digs around in the closets for an extra set of sheets and blankets. His phone buzzes on the nightstand, and he snatches it up eagerly, but it's only another text from Gon: a blurry picture of a foxbear cub in the woods. Smiling, he taps out a reply.

Very cool, buddy! Hey, guess who's coming to visit tomorrow?

Leorio showers and shaves and looks at himself in the fogged-up mirror for a while. Outside, the weak February sun is setting, casting a pale orange glow over the room's dingy carpet. It snowed over the weekend, and frozen remnants of the snowfall cling to the sidewalk under the shadows of bushes and trees. Wispy clouds drift across the darkening horizon. After pulling on a pair of threadbare pajamas, Leorio steps onto his cramped balcony to watch ant-sized groups of people scuttle across the sidewalk far below. The night air is bitingly cold and clear, and his breath comes out in puffs of vapor. He waits until the first stars appear in the indigo sky to step back inside.

* * *

He's running upstairs, a knife in his side, taking the stairs three at a time, panic throbbing in his chest and throat. Throwing open the door to the filthy bedroom, he hurries to the bed in the corner, noticing the strange musty smell of illness permeating the air. He kneels down to touch Kurapika's face. He's burning up, Leorio thinks grimly, turning to fetch a cold washcloth, but as he moves Kurapika's breathing turns labored and rattly, and when he looks back Kurapika's pallid face is turning a mottled purple, his delicate hands contorting into claws as he reaches for Leorio. "No, no, wait," Leorio cries out, "no, don't," he whimpers, watching helplessly as Kurapika emits one last agonized wheeze before falling still—

Leorio jolts awake, breathing like he's been sprinting. Clammy sweat clings to his bare chest and forehead. He grabs his alarm clock and swears. It's 4 in the morning and pitch black outside.

He's okay, Leorio tells himself. Just a stupid dream. Everything's fine.

Too jangled to sleep, Leorio gets out of bed and looks out the window. A fine sleet is falling over the city, coating the naked tree branches with a slick layer of ice, and he worries about Kurapika's flight.

He can't shake the queasy aftertaste of the nightmare. Impulsively, he picks up his phone and calls Kurapika.

"Yes?" Kurapika says, sounding exhausted.

"Oh!" Leorio says, caught by surprise. "I didn't think you'd pick up. Um."

"I'm on my way to the airport," Kurapika replies, and Leorio pictures his small figure tucked into the backseat of a cab, sleepy-eyed and cross. "What is it?"

"It's sleeting here," Leorio offers after a confused pause. "I just...wanted to make sure you knew. In case your flight is delayed, that is."

"Ah. Seeing as I'm not the pilot, I doubt there's much I can do about that," Kurapika says tiredly. "I'll inform you if my flight schedule changes. I'll see you soon. Goodbye."

Kurapika hangs up before Leorio gets another word in edgewise. He's left staring at his glowing phone screen in bemusement, sitting on the edge of his bed in the dark.

* * *

The morning dawns gray and blustery, and the steady sleet turns to snow around 9. Leorio paces back and forth in his room and checks the highway cams nervously, but the roads look fine so far. By 10:15, he can't sit still. He dresses in his blue suit and a wool overcoat and winds a thick scarf around his face, and when he steps out into the street the cold takes his breath away. This city is close to the ocean, so the humidity in the air has turned the snow into a particularly wet and clumpy variety. Leorio's hair freezes into spikes immediately, and he wipes the flakes out of his eyes and mouth as he walks into the wind towards his rental car parked down the street. The snow is starting to stick to the roads, he notes with apprehension.

Leorio drives the fifteen miles to the airport carefully, his windshield wipers working laboriously to clear away the damp snow. When he arrives, he pulls into the waiting lot and turns on the radio to pass the time. He still has about an hour before Kurapika lands. Valentine's Day is next week, so the radio is filled with ads for expensive restaurants and jewelry sales and florists. Can't take my eeeeyyyyyeeess offfff of youuuu, someone croons as he browses the stations.

"Hmph," Leorio grunts, and flips off the radio to sit in silence. He's almost dozing off when his phone finally buzzes, a message from Kurapika.

Hello. I'm at gate 12.

Leorio jerks awake and starts the engine again, circling back around to the arrival gates. His heartbeat seems to have migrated to somewhere just below his tonsils, and he's starting to sweat through his shirt. He drives slowly and uses his En to scan the crowd of people streaming out of the exit, until he feels a tug in his aura and spots a yellow-haired head waiting beside a lamppost.

"Ah!"

Leorio jerks the steering wheel suddenly towards the curb and puts the car in park. He unfolds his long legs and bounds out of the car towards Kurapika, who pockets his phone and nods in greeting. He's wearing a brown trench coat over his usual dark suit and he's shivering, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yo!" Leorio calls, striding towards the smaller man and enfolding him in his arms. Kurapika's narrow shoulders feel brittle through his coat, and he reaches up awkwardly to pat Leorio on his rib cage. Feeling his cheeks flush, Leorio steps back and fumbles for Kurapika's suitcase handle.

"Here! You must be freezing. Hop in, I'll put this in the back."

"I'm perfectly capable, thank you," Kurapika says irritably, but Leorio steps out of reach and tosses the suitcase in the backseat. Cold gusts of snow whistle through the cement overpass, and Leorio ducks around Kurapika to open the passenger door for him.

"Come on. The security guys are gonna yell at me if we don't get going," Leorio yells over the wind as he rounds the car and gets back behind the wheel, and Kurapika finally climbs into his seat and closes the door.

After the noise of the wind and the traffic and the airplanes taking off, the abrupt quiet is startling. Leorio heads back onto the freeway and starts talking a mile a minute to fill the silence. The roads are turning icy, and he grips the steering wheel tightly as he drives. Kurapika folds his hands neatly in his lap and gazes out the window, watching the snowy landscape rush past.

"How was the flight? You must be hungry. Should we stop and get something before we head back into town? There's not much to eat at the hotel unless you want crackers and bad coffee, heh, I've basically lived on that the last few days...but hey, where were you anyways? You never told me. Any leads? Have you run into the Troupe again? Have you talked to Gon and Killua much?"

He's babbling, and Kurapika waits patiently for him to finish.

"I was back in York Shin," he offers, fidgeting with the sleeves of the jacket. "But the lead went nowhere."

"Right," Leorio says, nodding, "well, I'm glad you made it. Really," he adds, "I know it's hard for you to change your plans and stuff..."

"Mm," Kurapika agrees, and falls silent again. Leorio exits the highway and reaches a red light, and while they're stopped he steals a glance at Kurapika while he's not looking.

The doctor in him is aghast at how utterly fatigued Kurapika looks. His eyes are ringed with bruised-looking shadows, and from the angular lines of his face Leorio can tell that he's grown considerably thinner. Tension is evident throughout Kurapika's entire body; his mouth is pressed into a firm line, his shoulders are angled inwards, and he holds his arms protectively against his chest. Even now, Leorio can see the shadow of Nen chains against Kurapika's small hand.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Leorio asks as he waits for the light to change.

"What?" Kurapika murmurs, his eyes flickering away from the window.

"You look so tired."

"Light," Kurapika says, motioning ahead.

"Shit." Several cars behind Leorio honk, and he accelerates quickly through the green light. "And are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Are you hungry, Leorio?" Kurapika asks, smiling faintly for the first time. Leorio's stomach gives a great rumble, and he laughs.

"I forgot to eat breakfast."

"That's very unlike you."

"I guess we should head back into town before this snow really starts to stick, though," Leorio says, peering up at the swirling clouds. "It sure is coming down. People don't know how to drive in it here, either, you know, it doesn't usually snow this much but apparently there's been some kind of high pressure system..."

Damn it, he's talking about the weather. He shuts himself up before it gets any worse and decides that Kurapika probably wants some peace and quiet.

They reach the hotel after another ten minutes of driving. Once he's parked the car, Leorio turns to look at Kurapika. He reaches out to ruffle his hair in a friendly way, but the action gets lost in translation somewhere between his brain and his hand, and he ends up patting him on the head like a child instead. Kurapika freezes under Leorio's touch and looks at him like he's grown an extra arm.

"Anyways," Leorio says desperately, "we should. Um. Let's get inside. It's snowing," he points out helpfully.

He jumps out of the car before he can embarrass himself further, and as he grabs Kurapika's luggage Leorio hears a chuckle coming from the passenger side. He berates himself inwardly and starts to trudge up the slushy sidewalk towards the hotel. His coat isn't waterproof, and he can feel icy water seeping through his clothing and chilling his skin. He shudders and picks up his pace.

Was it always this strained between them? Leorio can't be sure, as his memories of September are colored by the intense stress of the situation. He also knows that it's normal for friends to take some time to fall back into their habits of easy familiarity after a separation. Still, he can't help but feel wildly self-conscious around Kurapika, aware of his every gesture and expression. Kurapika's graceful, compact movements make Leorio feel overly large and clumsy as they make their way into the lobby and ride the elevator up to his room. Neither does he miss the way that Kurapika's eyes dart around anxiously, parsing the place for potential threats and escape routes. Leorio's throat tightens.

"Here we go," he says as he inserts the key card into his door and leads Kurapika inside. Kurapika heads for the pull-out couch and sinks down, shaking the snow from his trench coat and removing his shoes.

"No, no," Leorio protests, "you can have the bed."

"Are you sure? You look too tall for this," Kurapika says, loosening his tie. Leorio scrutinizes the pull-out bed and realizes that he's probably right, but shakes his head firmly anyways.

"All yours. Say, do you mind if I take a shower? I'm soaked to the bone. Do you want one first?"

Kurapika is moving his coat and luggage onto the bed, and he shrugs as Leorio starts peeling off layers of wet clothing and tossing them on the ground.

"Go ahead. I've got some work to catch up on."

Kurapika takes a laptop out of his luggage and plugs it into the wall as Leorio heads into the bathroom. Once he's closed the door, he strips out of his shirt and pants and turns the shower knob as hot as it goes. Stepping under the water, he runs a hand through his hair with a sigh of relief. He does actually want a shower, but he also needs some time to think through what to say when Kurapika inevitably asks what the plan of action is. A flash of guilt pulses through him, and he pushes it away as quickly as it comes. Kurapika's safe now, isn't he?

He turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist before stepping back into the room in a cloud of steam.

"Wanna go get something to eat?" Leorio asks, but Kurapika is fast asleep, slouched against the pillows with his computer on his lap.

Leorio pads towards Kurapika and hopes that he won't wake him up and startle him. He cautiously lifts the computer off of his legs and sets it aside. This hotel is old, and it doesn't have good central heating, so he drags the comforter off of the pull-out couch and lays it across Kurapika's sleeping form.

The snow falls steadily through the afternoon, piling up on the tiny balcony and lining the streets below. Leorio takes out his lecture notes from the past few days and sits at the desk to study, furrowing his brow as he underlines pertinent facts and chews on the end of his pen. Alerts flash across his phone, warning him to avoid driving and to stock up on provisions. The conference officials send out an official statement, telling the attendees that today and tomorrow's events have been canceled due to the storm. Kurapika stirs in his sleep and Leorio glances up, his pen hovering over the page, but Kurapika only sighs and burrows deeper into the blankets.

When Kurapika wakes up and starts asking questions, Leorio knows that he will be in trouble. Kurapika is sharp as a tack; he'll see the holes in Leorio's story immediately. But in this moment, everything is peaceful.

Sleep as long as you want. Sleep for a week if you need to, Leorio thinks, watching the rise and fall of Kurapika's chest. You're safe here.


End file.
